


You Took My Heart Then You Took My Pride Away

by HaleHole (SweetFanfics)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Misunderstandings, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-17
Updated: 2013-08-17
Packaged: 2017-12-23 20:03:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/930543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetFanfics/pseuds/HaleHole
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Before Derek, all Stiles had known were relationships (or well, <i>one</i> relationship with a girl). So, agreeing to be in a non-relationship slash fuck buddies agreement with the older man should have been something Stiles should have turned down flat from the get go.</p><p>But it was <i>Derek</i>. The same Derek Hale who he couldn’t help but eye appreciatively from time to time, admiring his sinful body and rare smile. Stiles would compare Derek’s offer of becoming fuck buddies a lot like winning the lottery - just with a lot more sex involved. Or maybe winning a sex lottery.</p><p>If only he hadn't fallen in love with the man along the way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Took My Heart Then You Took My Pride Away

**Author's Note:**

> A sex friends AU where everyone's human and the Hale family is alive and well (Kate who?) [The gif set](http://chaoticwaltz.tumblr.com/post/52892564485/simplystiles-an-au-where-they-are-fuckbuddies) that inspired this fic.

Stiles stared up at the ceiling in a daze, slowing coming down from his post-orgasm high, listening to the bathroom faucet squeak as Derek twisted it open. Lying naked on top of the wrinkled sheets that had seen better days, Stiles thought to himself that he couldn’t do this any more.  
  


He had been too naive coming into this… agreement with Derek. He should have known better, shouldn’t have ignored that voice in his head that muttered that he wasn’t a non-relationship kind of person.  
  


Before Derek, all Stiles had known were relationships (or well, _one_ relationship with one girl). So, agreeing to be in a non-relationship slash fuck buddies agreement with the older man should have been something Stiles should have turned down flat from the get go.  
  


But it was _Derek_. The same Derek Hale who he couldn’t help but eye appreciatively from time to time, admiring his sinful body and rare smile. Stiles would compare Derek’s offer of becoming fuck buddies a lot like winning the lottery - just with a lot more sex involved. Or maybe winning a sex lottery.  
  


Except, Stiles sighed at this thought, he wasn’t the kind of guy who could be satisfied with being fuck buddies with Derek. At some point in their weird relationship - between snarking at each other, being overly attention towards each other's needs in bed, pretending that they weren’t anything but acquaintances when they met and some seriously mind blowing sex (in his apartment, in Derek’s apartment, his Derek’s car, in his Jeep…) - Stiles had developed feelings for Derek. Or to be accurate, they had gone from 'I think I could like him' to 'I definitely like him'.  
  


Which wouldn’t be a big problem if it hadn’t been for the fact that Derek had been really clear that their relationship wasn’t ever going to be more than what it already was. Frustration rose in Stiles, making him press his palms against his closed eyes, sighing gustily once more.  
  


He wanted more than sneaking around behind their friends and family, meeting up at this cheap motel with its peeling yellow paint and sheets that smelled faintly musty. Wanted more than these stolen moments that ended the second that they were done.  
  


Stiles wanted to wrap his hands around Derek’s arm and drag him into a corner after they were done snapping at each other and kiss him senseless to win the argument. He wanted to keep and hold Derek by his side after they were done, whispering to him that clean up could wait till morning.  
  


With a small shake, Stiles pushed himself up and out of the bed. After cleaning himself up with a few wet wipes, he pulled his jeans on and wondered if he ought to leave already. Ennui made him sit back down on the mattress edge, eyes staring listlessly at the wall as he wondered if there was some way to dig himself out of this hole that he’d dug himself in.  
  


"Stiles?" Derek’s voice made him look up, blinking slowly as he watched the dark haired man slip his shirt back on. "You alright?"   
  


Although he didn’t feel like answering, Stiles forced himself to stand up and walk into the bathroom with a muttered, “Never better.” It would have been childish to slam the door shut, Stiles had to remind himself of that.   
  


After he had twisted the taps open, Stiles took a moment to lean heavily on the counter before he looked up at his own reflection and muttered, “What the hell am I gonna do now?” The rush of water mirrored the static-y sound that was buzzing in his head. Stiles in the mirror blinked at him, looking sad and weary as he sighed.

—  
  


As the cool air hit his face and Stiles tried to remember how to breathe it in without choking, he realized that it had been almost two months to the day since he had been aware of his feelings. And that he was done.  
  


He couldn’t do this, he just couldn’t.  
  


Stiles couldn’t be a convenient warm body for Derek that he could call on whenever he wanted. Stiles couldn’t keep this secret in anymore when it was crawling under his skin, threatening to burst out with every panicked heart beat of his.   
  


Not that he had said  _that_ to Derek just minutes ago.  
  


No, he couldn’t have Derek finding out about how Stiles felt towards him. There was just no way in Hell that Stiles was going to be rejected or worse, scorned for his feelings. But at the same time, telling Derek that they were done out of the blue hadn’t a smart move. But what else could he do?  
  


When Derek had asked him, eyebrows dipping along with a confused frown, “Why?”, Stiles had been left speechless. There hadn’t been any good answer to that once you took into account the fact that Stiles just didn’t want Derek to know the real reason.   
  


Because honestly. How damned dumb would it sound that he had walked out of the bar because he had seen Derek flirting with someone else (leggy, blond, pretty smile) that wasn’t him and Stiles just couldn’t take it?   
  


In a rare show of self control, Stiles had bitten down on his tongue and not said a word. Derek had stared at him in disbelief, probably not expecting Stiles to pass on a chance to explain himself. His rage turned ice cold the second he heard Derek mutter, “Suit yourself.” and walked away. Leaving Stiles alone on the sidewalk, hands curled protectively around his body in a useless attempt to ease the ache in his hurt.  
  


7 months of sleeping around with someone and all Stiles had to show for it was the ache that was spreading through him. Stiles staggered back, head hitting the brick wall with a satisfying thunk. He had hoped that maybe…  
  


Just maybe…  
  


"Stiles!" Scott’s voice, happy and loud, made Stiles turn towards the door he himself had stumbled out of scant 20 minutes ago. His best friend was squeezing his way past several girls dressed to the nines, flailing slightly as he managed to make his way out unscathed. "There you are!" Scott declared. "I was looking everywhere for you inside! What’re you doing out here?"  
  


Stiles shrugged, waving a hand at the sky. “Just needed some fresh air.” Breathe in Stiles. Breathe out. And try not to drown.  
  


—  
  


Seven months of sleeping with Derek Hale, the last two of them involving Stiles being aware of his feelings and holding on tighter to the man as they fucked. Add to that another five months of avoiding Derek like the plague and cursing the saying ‘absence makes the heart grow fonder’ and you’d have Stiles crappy year in a nutshell.  
  


Maybe it was unfair to call the whole year crappy because of the last few months but considering the amazing high note on which the year had started and then the way it was ending? Stiles felt completely justified in ranking the whole year a 2 out of 10, would not recommend. But the beginning? It had been _outstanding_. How else would anyone describe getting a New Year’s kiss from a drunk Derek Hale, followed by mutual blow jobs in the backseat of Derek’s Camaro? But life was crappy and unfair and Stiles’ heart was just  _stupid_ by falling for yet  _another_ seriously attractive,  _seriously_ unattainableindividual. And then there was the nosedive that was their non-break up-break up.  
  


If only someone had warned Stiles that  _that_ **wasn’t** going to be the lowest point of his year.  
  


Stiles ducked behind a large potted plant, lowering his head as he caught sight of Derek stalking into the room with a heavy frown on his face.  _'Should have known something was going on when Lydia invited me on her own,'_  Stiles thought darkly to himself, eyes darting between Derek’s wandering eyes and the open patio doors.   
  


Waiting for Derek to look away, Stiles darted outside by the pool side and heaved a relieved sigh. ' _Safe_ ,' he thought to himself, adjusting his blazer with a quick tug. A voice that sounded a lot like Scott reasonably told him that he was being silly. It also told him to act like the adult that he was, to man up and go talk to Derek instead of go about avoiding him. Because it was in his own head, Stiles felt okay to whine and complain that he really didn’t want to.  
  


Life had been peaceful, if a little…painful around the edges. The past few months had been filled with several epiphanies that had made Stiles fall on his bed and mope for the entire night. Like the fact that he missed the feeling of Derek’s hand on his back when he’d let him enter the room first. And the kisses that Derek would pepper under his jaw, nipping at bone and skin with his teeth. The sensation of his instep trailing up his calf, tickling the thin hair there before dragging down. The way Derek would pull him in with one hand behind Stiles' neck. The tiny little things that Stiles had taken for granted.  
  


Not to say that he didn’t missed the sex. His subconscious was a complete bastard in that regard, waking him up several times a week from dreams where was Derek pushing him down into the bed and fucking him senseless. So, yeah. Stiles couldn’t forget the sex either.  
  


Scott, bless his heart, had noticed that something had been worrying Stiles but hadn’t pressed the matter. Somehow, some way, he had also noticed that the cause of Stiles’ worry was heart ache and had just quietly offered Stiles his support (and presented a standing offer to give whoever was responsible for Stiles’ broken heart a good talking too and/or a broken nose).   
  


In the very next breath, Scott had suggested that maybe dating someone would help Stiles get out of the funk that he'd been stuck in. It was a good idea in theory, one Stiles’ had tentatively agreed to. Except the tiny problem that whoever his friends had tried to set him up with? They weren’t Derek.   
  


His stupid heart wasn’t satisfied with the few blind dates that Allison and Scott had set him up for. It wanted someone who was exactly 6 feet tall, had dark hair, scruff that felt surprisingly soft under Stiles' hands, a scowl that wouldn’t quit and a sense of humor that was as dry as a bone in a desert.   
  


And being within close proximity of the person who happened to meet all of his specific requirements? Stiles’ first reaction had been to run and hide. No one said that he was the most sensible person in the world, okay.  
  


Stiles eyed the pool and then the fence, thinking that he was almost scott free. All he had to do was hop the back fence and he’d be safe. He walked around the pool, eyes locked on the dark gate and his escape. Just a few more steps and then…  
  


His steps faltered, the soles of his shoes scratching against the pathway as he considered the answer. And then what indeed. More months of pining and heart ache? Endless days of pretending that he didn’t know that Derek had a ticklish spot around his third rib that made him burst out laughing? Hours upon hours where there was no contact with Derek?   
  


The sound of a door slamming open made Stiles jump. When he turned around, he stared with wide eyes as Derek stalked up to him. The angry look on the older man’s face made Stiles take a few steps back out of sheer self preservation because seriously,  _nothing_ good happened when Derek had that look on his face. (Except a few times when it had led to some  _amazing_ hate-sex against the wall).  
  


Stiles started when he felt the wall against his back and flinched harder when Derek’s arms caged him in. “What,” the other man began in a slow, dangerous tone, “the hell is your problem, Stilinski.”   
  


"Do you want the whole list?" Being flippant was  _probably_ the wrong response to being trapped because Stiles could see Derek’s rage rising. It made him gulp and lean harder against the wall, hoping that maybe somehow he could just phase through the brick and mortar and find himself free to run for home.   
  


Derek’s expression tightened, “Can you, for once in your life, take something seriously?”  
  


Anger rushed through Stiles, not appreciating  _Derek_ _of all the people_ saying that he wasn’t being serious because if there was anyone between them who wasn’t taking things seriously, it was  _Derek._ So he brought his hands up, put them on Derek’s chest and  _shoved_.  
  


The older man took a few startled steps back, surprise flaring in his pale eyes as he looked at Stiles. “What do you want?” Stiles was surprised at how cold he managed to sound. “In case you hadn’t noticed, I was trying not to meet you.”  
  


There was a flash of something else in Derek’s eyes that Stiles was tempted to call hurt but that was probably wishful thinking on his part. But it was gone faster than Stiles could blink, replaced with an achingly familiar mulish look on his face. “Too bad.” Derek snapped, crossing his arms. “Because I want to talk.”  
  


And people thought that _Stiles_ liked to be contrary. They’d never met Derek Hale once he began to dig his heels in. “Then talk.” Stiles retorted, jutting his chin out as he raised an imperious eyebrow. The faster that he got this over with, the faster he could go home. And slam his head into a desk for being so dumb.  
  


But that was for later. Right now he had to stare down Derek and hold back the flood of memories that was spilling out of the closet where Stiles had stuffed them into. The sudden proximity to Derek, after so _long_ , was murder on his aching heart. And the _smell_ of Derek's stupid cologne... Oh  _God_ that was bringing back some good memories of burying his face against Derek’s shoulder and hiding his groans into the tanned skin.    
  


The sound of the party drifted over the pool, filling the silence between them until Stiles impatiently began to tap his foot. He finally rolled his eyes and asked, “Well? What did you want to talk a-“  
  


"Why the hell have you been ignoring me? From before tonight. " Derek asked, abrupt and sudden in a way that made Stiles start. Of all the questions, that hadn’t been one that Stiles had been expecting or had been preparing himself for. It was also one that he didn’t have a truthful answer for. Not an entirely true answer anyways.  
  


Stiles pressed his lips together, wetting them with his tongue before replying, “We… we weren’t… __together anymore and just… there wasn’t any reason for us to hang out was there?”  
  


"You thought that just because we weren’t sleeping together, we couldn’t spend any time together?"  
  


The disbelieving tone that Derek said that made Stiles snort, unable to help himself. “Duh.” Stiles replied. “What time did we spend together when we weren't having sex?” He began to count them off on his fingers. “When Isaac wants to hang out with Scott and me. When Erica, Laura or Cora twist your arm and drag you out for drinks or clubbing. When Lydia or someone has a party. That’s it.”  
  


Stiles had to wave the three fingers in front of Derek just to be an asshole and to prove his point. “We don’t hang out or anything! We just hooked up a few times every week, had sex and called it a day.”  
  


Rage had slowly been gathering on Derek’s face, like dark clouds in the sky that threatened to burst at any given moment. It made dread gather in Stiles’ stomach, heavy and twisting into painful knots. “You. Are such an asshole.” Derek finally commented, hands curled into fists by his side.  
  


"Takes one to know one." Stiles muttered under his breath, lips turning down in an angry scowl.  
  


Derek snorted, a disgusting curl to his mouth. “That’s true. It takes a special kind of asshole to pull the shit that you did.”  
  


"What the hell is  _that_ supposed to mean?” Stiles snapped back, immediately on the defensive.   
  


"It means that  _you’re_  the asshole who just started ignoring me without even giving me the common courtesy of telling me  _why_ we’re breaking up,” Derek yelled back, eyes blazing with fury. Stiles was genuinely taken aback by the sheer  _force_ of Derek’s anger. “I’ve been trying to talk to you for  _months_  but you keep pretending that I don’t even  _exist_!”  
  


Stiles felt his eyes widen as Derek continued, voice rising higher. “You’ll talk to Isaac, Boyd, Erica, Laura, Cora! Even to my  _Uncle Peter_ who you said creeps you out! But _me_? You act like I’m dead. You even  _said_ that I’d be better off dead.” He couldn’t help but wince at that one, feeling lower than dirt at how pained Derek's voice was. _That_ had been said after a particularly miserable night that Scott had tried to break him out of by dragging him to the nearest bar that sold vodka. He wondered how Derek had heard of that particular rant.  
  


The hurt edge to Derek’s voice wasn’t that big of a surprise because honestly, there was no person in the world who’d like hearing  _that_. “If you wanted out then all you had to do was fucking  _ask_. I'm not that much of an asshole that I'd force you to stay.” Derek pointed out and that was it. Just it.  
  


"I _didn’t_  want out!” Stiles burst out, gesturing wildly towards Derek with both hands. “I was stupid in love with you!”  
  


The moment his confession was out of his chest, Stiles felt lighter and heavier at the same time. At least he wasn’t holding onto his secret but now that he had said it, it had become real. As real as the pole axed look on Derek’s face. Oh  _shit_ _._ Stiles had just… in front of…  
  


The urge to run away returned with a vengeance. Stiles turned towards the patio door, not caring who would see him run out with his tail between his legs. Everyone was probably busy counting down to the New Year anyways so they’d miss Stiles running out the front door.  
  


But Derek’s hand wrapped around his arm, tight and far too warm. It jerked Stiles back, his arm pressing against Derek’s chest. “ _What_?” Derek asked in a strangled voice. "What did you say?"  
  


Stiles kept his eyes locked on the open door, swallowing harshly and trying his best to not blush like a teenager. “You heard me.” When Derek’s hand tightened painfully on his forearm, Stiles had to try to tug it away. One hand came up to rub at the spot, trying to capture Derek's warmth as much as rub the pain away.  
  


"Me too." Derek’s abrupt admission made Stiles freeze and whip around to stare at the older man. For his part, Derek looked as surprised at Stiles at his own words, the tips of his ear turning pink the longer that Stiles stared.  
  


Adam’s apple bobbing, Stiles croaked out, “What…do you mean…”  
  


Derek’s mouth flapped open and close for a moment before his grip loosened of its own accord, trailing down to lightly grip Stiles’ wrist. “I didn’t want out either.” He explained softly to the fingers stroking against smooth skin. “Because I… was stupid in love with you too.”  
  


He couldn’t help but  _gawp_ at Derek because  _what?_  
  


"Then why did you agree when I said that we were done? Why didn't you fight back?" Stiles croaked out, feeling weaker than a new born colt. "Why’d you flirt with that girl at the bar? Why didn’t you  _say **anything**_?”  
  


With a confused scowl, Derek asked, “What girl at the bar?”  
  


Stiles gave the man an incredulous stare before waving his arms at him. “The blond! With the great legs, green dress? The night we broke up? You were flirting with her  _all night_!  **THAT** blond!”  
  


To say that he felt confused when Derek gave him a distinctly sheepish look would have been an understatement. “I uuuh….” Derek cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck as he avoided Stiles’s eye. “I may or may not have been trying to make you jealous.” The disappointed slump to Derek’s shoulder would have been endearing in any other situation except this. “I didn’t think that it would blow up in my face this bad.”  
  


And wasn’t that the understatement of the fucking year.  
  


Exhaling noisily, Stiles took a step closer to Derek and asked, “What did you think would happen when you tried that anyways?” He had to know, just  _had to know_ what Derek was trying to do, trying to gain.  
  


Derek’s eyes danced away for a moment before they returned to meet him, looking more vulnerable than Stiles had ever seen them. “I thought that… if you were jealous, then I’d know if you wanted more than just sex. That you liked me enough to try for something more. With me.”  
  


Words weren’t ever Derek’s things, Stiles knew that. And the stilted explanation that he had gotten was more words than he had exchanged with the other man over the course of their damned  _lives_ _._ Which said to Stiles that this was important to Derek. That  _he_ was important to Derek.  _They_ were important to Derek.  
  


"Why didn’t you just ask?" Stiles couldn’t stop himself from asking softly, ignoring the count down that was starting inside. He had more important things to deal with than counting backwards from 10.   
  


Derek gave him a dry look, the one that Stiles often got at the tail end of a long ramble and made him want to squirm. “I was scared.” Stiles felt the air in his lungs disappear at the quiet admission, unable to believe that Derek had just admitted something so big to him.  
  


As the cheers erupted indoors, completed with fireworks screeching through the night sky and exploding into red and green blossoms, Stiles reached out to take hold of Derek’s wrist. “I know the feeling.” He smiled tentatively at the other man, taking one more step forward so that they were toe-to-toe.  
  


Derek returned his tiny smile, hopeful and warm as he reached out his other hand. For a moment it hovered over Stiles’ cheek, waiting there shyly until Stiles pressed his face into the warm palm. “You’re an idiot.” He murmured into the rough skin, relief and happiness making him feel like his insides were made of jello.  
  


"Takes one to know one." Derek returned, lips pressed to Stiles’ forehead.


End file.
